


a perfect plan

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Chair Sex, Dry Humping, F/M, Future Fic, Inappropriate Erections, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Sparring, Training, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6538222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson thinks Daisy is amazing. In every sense. That's the problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a perfect plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts).



She should probably take a break, but these days she’s working harder than ever before, and there are multiple reasons for it - all of which Coulson can sympathize with. It’s not like he himself is known for taking breaks when he needs them.

And from a tactical point of view he gets that she has to pull more than her weight these days. Since Lincoln left, choosing the cure and a normal life over her, with May taking some weeks off missions to welcome Andrew home, and this weekend Mack is down in Bogotá so basically Daisy is alone on the muscle front. At least things seem calm for once. 

Not that this is going to stop her from training and _over_ training, as Coulson finds out that evening, when he finds her in the gym rehearsing some strategic moves with the help of some furniture and some dummy dolls.

She’s training accuracy with her powers, that much is obvious. Coulson knows she has this habit of honing her Inhuman skills when no one else is around - perhaps still haunted by those first days when she couldn’t control them and the team was afraid, for her but of her too.

It’s late but she’s still in her training clothes - shorts and a black top, but no boxing gloves.

He watches her roll under a table and knock one dummy enemy down with her powers. She doesn’t see him yet so Coulson enjoys the spectacle from the door for a moment. Her face when she turns around is so serious, more than she ever lets anyone see.

“How long have you been there?” she asks.

“Long enough.”

Daisy flexes her arms.

“If I’m undercover I can’t wear my gauntlets,” she explains. “I’m trying to shrink my waves without them.”

He nods.

“Do you need help?” he asks.

She looks around. “Well, these dummies are not very challenging. Can you try to tackle me as I take down the other two?”

Coulson widens his eyes. “Tackle you? Really?”

“What? You think you can take me?”

She gives him a little smirk of challenge.

At least she seems distracted. And it sounds like a great plan - much better than what Coulson had in store for the rest of his evening. Suddenly he's pretty excited by the idea of being Daisy Johnson's training partner for the first time in history.

She moves the dummy so Coulson can take the place of the first guard.

“You’re coming from over the desk or from under?”

She runs her fingers through her hair. “Well, it wouldn’t be any fun if I told you, right?”

Against his expectations Coulson finds himself pumped too. He hasn’t trained in some time - since he had to learn how to shoot with his prosthetic, at least to a decent degree - and he hasn’t felt like doing much action stuff since killing Ward.

He does okay when Daisy enters the designated area from under the desk, he avoids her kicking his weight from under him, and last about three seconds against her punches (she’s holding back, the point is not honing her fighting skills but her powers) and he gets a bit cocky after that.

Daisy is a bit ticked off, unable to get the vibrations squarely against the dummy’s chest.

“You think you’re ready for another one?” she asks.

Coulson takes off his jacket. She has the unfair advantage of being just in shorts and a tank top.

“If you’re ready for more?” he throws back at her.

“I will destroy you,” she tells him.

“Okay, but remember you have to rescue the hostage. This exercise is not about _destroying_ the Director of SHIELD.”

She fake-pouts like he’s such a party pooper.

After the third time he’s already sweating and Daisy is no longer paying attention to the fight, she’s more concerned with getting the other two guards in time. He should be offended.

This time he actually takes her by surprise. She rolls over the desk, as he imagined she would and when she tries to get him out of the way with a kick to his side Coulson catches her leg with his prosthetic hand, which would not yield even against Daisy’s powerful kicks. Coulson has a moment to enjoy her little frown of annoyance before she pushes herself off the desk and uses her other leg to kick his right shoulder and force him to the ground. He tries to get up again quick but suddenly the world is very heavy and Daisy is sitting on his chest, pinning his arms to the mats to immobilize him.

“Hey. Good move,” she says.

“Not good enough,” Coulson replies, with Daisy’s weight on his chest and her legs straddling his head.

She shrugs a bit, “New time.”

Neither of them move for a moment, until it becomes slightly tense, with both breathing heavily and smiling at each other in admiration of the other’s fighting skills. Coulson knows he’s not in Daisy’s league at all - but he’s happy to have made her work for it.

The moment only ends because Daisy gets up, the pressure on Coulson’s chest gone, but his body tingling with a strange energy.

“You wanna be the hostage now?” she asks.

“Sounds good,” Coulson says. He adds, rather awkwardly, still recovering, “sounds perfect.”

She takes the dummy that was sat on the chair and carries it away from the mats.

Coulson sits on the chair, practicing his best damsel-in-distress stance.

“Do you mind if I handcuff you?” Daisy asks, cuffs in hand.

“Not at all,” he smiles. “But it’s nice of you to ask first.”

She makes an amused-surprised noise, like she’s not used to flirting. Or maybe not used to quality flirting - not to brag but Coulson is pretty sure he’s much better than Lincoln. It’s friendly, of course, made to make her feel better. She’s a bit embarrassed, but just the right side of delighted with it.

“You know I can break out of these on my own, right?”

“But you’re just a stand in for whoever is hostage,” she explains. “Also you could be knocked out, they might have hit you.”

“Ah, okay.”

This is fun, he thinks, right when Daisy carefully puts the cuffs on him, his arms behind the chair. Working things out together, not just training but improving. Or rather he’s helping her improve right now. Daisy is using him as a helpful prop and he’s more than okay with that.

The first time doesn’t go well, though.

She repeats the same moves as before, rolling under the desk and coming up as she starts using her powers.

And she gets the two dummies that are supposed to be Coulson’s guards, no problem, they fall to the ground with a hollow noise, but some of the vibrations get Coulson and the chair on the side and he topples over.

Daisy runs to his side, worried. Unable to stop the fall because of the cuffs he just braced himself and closed his eyes. His head rings for a moment.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

She helps him up again, easily pushing both his weight and the chair’s.

“Sorry, sorry,” she repeats before going back to her initial position.

Coulson watches her press her thumb into her palm before making a fist, a gesture of renewed determination. She’s changed so much since the young woman he picked from a van in a dirty Los Angeles backstreet. And at the same time she hasn’t changed _at all_. It’s hard to explain. He wishes he could see her like this more often. All this power in repose. No deathly danger situation, no running out of time. Just Daisy and her faith in her skills, both human and Inhuman. And _faith_ is the word, he can see it clearly.

The second time - she has always been a quick study, from day one, it’s one of the things that made Coulson want her on his team - it goes perfect. She gets the two dummies and though Coulson and the chair 

“Now for the handcuffs,” she runs to his side, kneeling behind the chair. “Uh.”

“What?” he asks, craning his neck to get a look at what she’s doing.

“I’m normally quick with this but with you…”

“What?”

“You present a different problem,” Daisy tells him.

“My prosthetic?”

She nods. “I don’t want to damage it. The human body is very resilient, I don’t have to worry about my vibrations hurting anyone when I’m trying to break the cuffs apart. It requires a lot to affect human flesh, actually, but your prosthetic...“

“Is more fragile?”

“Against my powers, yes. Ironically.”

She makes a small shoulder gesture, looking away for a second. Coulson doesn’t think they have openly talked about the fact that he lost a hand. It’s something that obviously makes her uncomfortable.

“But it’s okay,” she amends, noticing him pensive. “I just have to be more careful.”

He can almost hear her concentrate and it makes him smile. His smile freezes when he starts feeling the touch of her powers on his skin. He had never… it’s such an alien touch, like nothing he has felt before. The handcuffs start to rattle and Daisy was right, it doesn’t hurt him at all, just prickles a bit. More like some sort of spider-touch. But not creepy (Coulson doesn’t love bugs). Just… foreign.

“Wow,” he says when she finishes and he’s free again. He wraps his hand around the wrist of his prosthetic, checking that everything is all right with it. It is. Daisy was careful. “That was something.”

She sits on the floor, propped on one hand, smiling openly at him.

“Yeah, I’m amazing,” she comments, like it’s a joke.

Coulson looks at her, very seriously, his voice matter-of-factly. “Yeah, you are.”

That wrong-steps Daisy, and he intended for it to do so. So she’ll pay attention. So she’ll believe it’s not one more humorous comment. She’s amazing. In every sense. Coulson wishes he could dedicate half an hour each morning to list all the reason that make her the most extraordinary person he’s ever met. But he’s a failure and he rarely takes a moment to even simply state she is _amazing_. Maybe he should start doing it more often.

She drops her gaze, touching the back of her neck for a moment. She stands up, pacing around the training area for a moment.

“What about from a distance?” she muses. Speaking clearly to herself. Coulson has always noticed that about her; she talks to herself a lot, even when there are other people around. the profiler in him knows perfectly why that is.

She goes to the cabinet and takes another pair of handcuffs.

She gestures for Coulson to stand up.

She has everything clearly mapped out in her head and he can only follow. He likes that. It suits Daisy, giving order. Not for the first time he thinks she’d make a fantastic Director of SHIELD. Except he’s not sure he wants that fate for her.

“Let’s say they’ve tied my hostage to a pipe,” she proposes. She taps Coulson on the shoulder to signal that he should walk to the wall.

She is touching him a lot today. Unusual, but for some reason he doesn’t feel like complaining.

She tells him to lift his arms as she puts the cuffs on him. She smells of sweat and hard work and Coulson is glad she has found something to focus on, to distract her. The last few weeks have been lonely for her, he knows.

“How many handcuffs have you destroyed?” he asks.

“This is the third one,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Hey, I love being thrifty but this is important. If it’s you in that chair for real you’ll thank me.”

“I was just asking.”

He can’t deny that he enjoys watching her use her powers. Especially in a training setting where there’s no danger and she can take her time to explore her abilities. Coulson has always admired the way some agents are in control of their bodies, how beautifully they move in a fight. But the superpowers are a plus. Something Coulson has never been constantly exposed to like with Daisy. And she keeps growing every day. She can do stuff with them today he couldn’t have predicted even a month earlier. He gets the feeling she really has no limits.

She rehearses the same routine as before, but this time trying to send a wave to his wrists from the distance, trying to break him free halfway across the room.

The first two times it doesn’t work. The first time she aims too high, missing Coulson completely. The second time she gets him in the face, hitting his head against the wall. Not hard or anything. Just enough for an “ouch” and a fake-disappointed glare towards her.

“Shit.”

He smiles. She almost never swears in front of people. Funny because her online persona is foul.

“Keep the arms up, I’ll see if I can do it from up close. I need to try all angles before I can test distance.”

Up close means really close, apparently. Without warning Daisy presses him against the wall and her body against his, reaching out to cover one of his wrists with her hand. It works, the vibrations tear the metal apart in a moment but that’s not the problem.

He feels a nice goosebump-like feeling when Daisy uses her powers on him and she is pressed against him, with her big eyes really close and focused on the task, her breathing pulsating against Coulson’s chest. Coulson finds himself getting lost in the moment, the closeness - because him and Daisy had never been physically close, they have too many boundaries and their interactions have been too strained for casual touching - and the fantasy of it all (and her damned powers, that seems to be the nail on the coffin) and his body reacts to all of it without his authorization. 

He draws a pained breath, recoiling from the touch.

Daisy takes a moment to realize - he really hoped she wouldn’t, for a moment it looked like she might not - and then she leaves the rest of the job and drops her gaze to his face, lowering her arms carefully, like she doesn’t dare any sudden movement. Her pupils are big.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hears himself say as he drops his arms and gets away from her. Hears himself because he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience or more like Body Snatchers have come to claim him because Phil Coulson absolutely did not just get a hard on training with his subordinate and friend.

“Coulson?”

 _No_ , he thinks.

“Let me sit down for a moment,” he says, basically flinging himself into the chair in the center of the room, dropping his head and pushing his knees together tightly.

He just thinks Daisy is amazing in every single way. But unfortunately he means _every single way_. 

God knows what Daisy must be thinking, being ogled by a man almost twice her age when he was supposed to help her train her powers. It doesn’t matter that Coulson didn’t intentionally do this.

“Is it the outfit?” she asks, calmly.

“Not really, no.”

“Is it my powers?”

“Well…”

“It’s because you were tied up and I _saved you_.”

“Can we stop talking about this? I will apologize profusely in a minute.”

He draws a couple of deep breaths, willing his erection away.

“Coulson, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not,” he tells her. Even if it wasn’t on purpose this is disrespecting her and he doesn’t want Daisy to accept this kind of behavior from a fellow agent so easily. She should be angry. He’s glad she’s not of course. He couldn’t stand it if Daisy thought that he… that the way he saw her… “I’m so sorry, I was excited-”

“ _Obviously_.”

“No! About training. And spending time together. I’ve never trained with you. I’ve never seen your powers up close. It was…”

He doesn’t find the words. Apparently his body is better at expressing admiration.

He closes his eyes and then he hears Daisy walk around towards him. When he opens them she is putting her hands on the back of the chair and facing him, lowering herself on his lap.

“Wha - _what_ are you doing?”

She sits on him, grinding down on his erection.

“I wanted to feel it,” she says. She sounds so honest and earnest it makes his attempts at magically disappearing his hard on futile.

The pressure on his groin has distracted him for a moment from how close she is - again - her face - again - and her incomprehensibly beautiful eyes. He looks down, because somehow it’s less compromising, looking as her powerful legs straddling his, than looking at her face, he looks at his trembling hands, reaching to grab the underside of the chair for support.

“It’s okay,” Daisy says, grabbing his neck with both hands. He’s sweating, but so is she. “Coulson. Look at me.”

He stops floundering, flailing, and lifts his gaze.

Daisy is serious. Serious like he’s never seen before. Like she knows something he doesn’t.

“It’s okay,” she repeats and Coulson believes her.

She kisses him, brushing her lips gently a couple of times before going for the real thing. His cock goes from half-hard from all the training to absolutely fucking hopeless because Daisy is kissing him. She opens him up with the same care with which she broke the cuffs for him and set him free. The same feeling, too. She rolls her hips slowly as she deepens the kiss. Coulson is not sure what hurts more, his cock painfully growing against his jeans, or his heart aching under the sweetness of Daisy’s kiss, Daisy’s tongue touching the roof of his mouth and licking his teeth.

“I thought you wouldn’t want me,” she says, her voice full of wonder.

“Who wouldn’t want you?”

Daisy laughs. “A bunch of people, actually.”

“I want you,” he tells her, in a fevered state, eyes half-closed as he tries to follow her lips into the next kiss. It’s an obvious thing to say but he likes the idea of her hearing it anyway. “I want you, Skye, so much.”

He freezes, realizing his mistake.

“Damn.”

Daisy smirks.

“So it’s not just when I’m in danger.”

He freezes harder, if that’s a thing.

“You noticed?”

She nods.

He’s such a fool.

“I think it’s sweet,” she says, kissing the tip of his nose. That’s cute and all but her hips keep moving against his crotch, nothing innocent here. “That you care so much…”

She kisses him again, like him caring if she lives or dies is such an extraordinary thing it deserves a reward, keeps kissing him until he snakes his arms around her back, feeling the curve of her spine through the thin fabric of her top. She moves faster now, riding him and grinding, desperate for friction, and the way she presses her breasts against his chest and leans him back against the chair is becoming unbearable.

“Daisy… you’re going to make me…”

“Come in your pants? What if I want that?” she says, her voice heavy like they’re underwater or something related to some honey dripping metaphor or some crap that Coulson can’t think of right now because _dear god_.

“Do you?”

“Make the Director of SHIELD come inside his pants? It’s an enticing prospect.”

He groans, much too affected by her tone of voice. She sounds playful and free like he’s never heard her before.

She drops her hand to palm his erection through the jeans.

“You know?” she says, lowering her voice dangerously and brushing her nose against Coulson’s jaw. “I don’t even need to touch you.”

He swallows, because he knows what she means. He’s felt it before, but only by accident, only because Daisy was trying to uncuff him. Now she means to focus her powers _on him_. The gentle vibrations go through the fabric of his jeans and make direct contact with his flesh and it’s like she directly touching his dick - and in a way she is. Her vibrations are as much as part of Daisy as her hands, her fingers.

Before he can elaborate on this particularly pleasurable thought Coulson finds himself climaxing without meaning to.

“No…” he says weakly because he doesn’t want it to stop _so soon_. He buries his face between her breasts, pulling at the back of her top.

It’s only a bit painful and absolutely glorious and when he comes down he finds her hands holding him, her eyes waiting for him.

It’s only afterwards that shame settles in.

God, what must Daisy be thinking of him now?

He dreams of doing this with Daisy, but _properly_ , not an embarrassment incident like what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head and chuckling, feeling so pathetic it doesn’t even matter anymore.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Daisy mutters, kissing his mouth and cheek. “Just… just help a fellow agent out here, okay?”

She guides Coulson’s hand between her legs, pushing down on his fingers as they are splayed against the crotch of her shorts. The fabric is thin and Coulson can feel she’s wet underneath. It’s almost enough to send him over the edge again, if it weren’t technically impossible. 

“Fuck, Coulson, fuck,” she lets out. Again Daisy swearing is… interesting. And she sounds like his fingers pressed against her is the greatest most surprising favor anyone has ever done to her.

“I want you too, you know,” she says, hiding her face into his neck like she’s suddenly feeling shy about it, while her fingers still move with Coulson’s, stroking her through her clothes.

“I’m getting that idea now,” Coulson admits, pressing his mouth against her temple as his thumb circles her clit.

Daisy holds on to him when she comes, much sooner than either of them expected or were prepared for, digging her nails into his arm, but at that point he doesn’t even care if it hurts. 

Afterwards she becomes liquid in his hands and Coulson can barely hold her, himself still in a very liquid-like state. Daisy twists her hands into his shirt and leans his head against his chest. He doesn’t have her powers but he can feel her whole body _humming_ , singing, against his. Coulson doesn’t need to ask if what has just happened was just a way to blow off steam, or a rebound thing from her failed relationship with Lincoln. He is not an idiot; Daisy is in love with him.

He’s uncomfortable, his clothes a mess, he’s embarrassed and he’s absolutely happy just when he thought happiness was not something within grasp in a life like his.

He clears his voice. “A very innovative way of saving a hostage, Agent Johnson,” he says. “But I think it worked.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But next time leave the cuffs on me.”

Daisy raises an eyebrow.

“Next time?” she repeats. “How does in ten minutes sound?”

“Sounds _perfect_ ,” Coulson tells her, making it clear it’s not the plan he thinks it’s perfect.

It should be obvious by now, but he likes the idea of Daisy hearing it.

Because she is.


End file.
